Bathroom Break

So what can top a day at church with Abby wondering aloud for the entire congregation to hear, "Why does that old man not have to stand up?" Today.

With seven minutes to spare before the service started, I seized the opportunity to use the bathroom. I finished my business and vacated my stall. And then I heard the words you don't want to hear in the bathroom, "Oh no, this isn't good." I turned around in the two-stall facility to see a pool of black sludge gathering between the toilets. I was certain I had not left an overflowing toilet, so I returned to the stall, and bent over to investigate. Then the voice spoke again, "I think your toilet overflowed." I was mortified, and determined to prove I was not the culprit. Sure enough it appeared as if it was seeping out of the back of the toilet in my neighbor's stall.

Desperate I asked, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm okay," the voice responded.

And then she appeared. This wasn't just any voice, it was the voice of the pastor. Of course it was!

We both got a good laugh over it, as good of a laugh as I suppose you could have over the wreak of the sludge.

I offered my services and was tasked with the job of standing in front of the bathroom so no one entered the double stalls of nasty.

I was quite certain by this time Geoff thought this was some plot I had devised to leave him alone in a church full of strangers with our two questioning lovelies. But alas, ten minutes after I left I had returned. And while the service consequently started a little late, the issue had been laid to rest. Whew. Next time, I'm using a different bathroom.